Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are
by LibranWiccan
Summary: Dave finally gets some courage...
1. Chapter 1

_Oh God. I'm actually going to do this, aren't I? Yup, I am. No going back now. _

Dave's mind is practically buzzing with words. Words to encourage him, words to stop him from committing social suicide in the next five seconds, so many words jumbled together. But a few words stick out in his mind. Like Kurt forgiving him. He didn't deserve forgiveness, and yet he has it. He remembers that day outside of Kurt's French class, when he broke down and wept like a baby. And his eyes, Kurt's eyes, they were full of tears and looked almost caring. Dave uses this image now, to show himself that if Kurt freaking Hummel can look at a guy who's tortured him to the point of switching schools and see that there's something worth saving, then he can have the courage to come out.

He sees Kurt leaning against his locker, chatting with Mercedes and Tina. The hall is crowded, and Dave feels a lump in his throat, but he swallows hard and squares his shoulders. He walks forward, knowing that Azimio is watching him from farther down the hall. This is how he planned it. Alright. Moment of truth.

"Hello, David," Kurt says kindly, offering a small smile as Dave approaches. But the smile slowly slides off when he realizes that Dave isn't stopping. He's coming straight at Kurt, and before Kurt can even register what's happening, Dave has him in his arms, his hands sliding across Kurt's back to rest at his hips.

Dave feels Kurt's body tense, and he pleads softly, "Please don't be mad for what I am about to do. Just…please go with it." He feels Kurt slowly nod, and then he's got Kurt's beautiful porcelain face between his hands, and he's looking Kurt in the eyes and leaning forward. Kurt's breath hitches when Dave's lips brush gently against his. In fact, every single person in that hallway gasps a little. Azimio's jaw hits the floor.

Dave is shaking all over from just restraining himself. Because he doesn't want a repeat of the last time he kissed Kurt. He wants this time to be sweet. But that becomes impossible when he feels something against his lips, and _Holy crap is that Kurt's tongue? _He lets out a pathetic noise, kind of like a borderline whimper, and Kurt moans into his mouth, so low that only they can hear it. Suddenly Dave's hands have a mind of their own, sliding down Kurt's neck, over his shoulders, down his sides to grip his hips. He gently pulls Kurt flush against his body, and when he knows that Kurt isn't resisting, he lifts Kurt into the air.

Mercedes and Tina are spellbound by this little display, but Tina lets out a squeak when Kurt is in the air and suddenly wrapping his long legs around Dave's waist. This is the closest that some of these kids will ever come to seeing gay porn, and nobody seems to mind. Even some of the guys are watching with curiosity, heads tilted to the side like cocker spaniels.

When Dave finally pulls away, their mouths making a smacking sound as they separate, Kurt's eyes are glazed and his lips are swollen. He is immediately aware that his feet are no longer touching the ground, and he feels the burn of embarrassment color his cheeks. He wriggles against Dave, wanting to be let down, but it creates a new problem altogether. Dave suppresses a moan when Kurt's groin presses hard against his own, and before he can close his eyes and think of Coach Sylvester in a thong, his erection is past the point of concealment.

"Kurt," He warns, his voice a low growl. "Stop…moving…like…that."

Kurt looks confused, but then he glances down, and his eyes open wide as saucers. He hastily unwraps himself from Dave's embrace, but he doesn't completely move away. Dave's cock is so hard it's ridiculous, and Kurt doesn't want the whole world knowing it. So he grabs for Dave's hand, mutters "Excuse us" to the hallway full of students, and yanks Dave into the nearest empty classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

"What…the fuck…was THAT?"

Dave winces as Kurt paces frantically around the room screeching (like a howler monkey) swear words Dave didn't even know he knew. The last bell sounds but neither boy moves toward the door. Kurt finally stops abruptly, turning his head to glare at Dave. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

Dave smiles. "Yeah. That was friggin' amazing."

Kurt's jaw drops. "Really? That's all you got? How about 'sorry, Kurt, I know you have a boyfriend but hopefully this won't make your relationship awkward' or 'gee, Kurt, I didn't know that you wouldn't appreciate getting basically dry-humped in front of the entire junior class.' Something like that, maybe."

Dave's smile fades. He stands up, and is disappointed when Kurt backs away slowly. "First of all, I _am _sorry about making it awkward between you and Blaine. Second, it sure didn't seem like you wanted me to stop, Kurt. You put. Your tongue. In my mouth. And I believe I heard a moan somewhere in there, but maybe I was imagining things. But I will not apologize for what may be the best moment of my life."

That shuts Kurt up real fast. His expression softens. "Really?"

Dave looks at the floor, shrugging shyly. "Maybe."

Kurt smiles to himself. "Oh." He pauses, thinking. "Wait, kissing me or coming out?"

"Huh?"

"Which was the best moment of your life?"

Dave takes another step forward. This time Kurt holds his ground. "Why can't it be both?" He reaches a timid hand up to cup Kurt's face, and Kurt involuntarily leans into it, letting out a pathetic sigh. "I shouldn't be doing this to you," Dave murmurs, gazing into the blue eyes that have been haunting his dreams for the past year and a half.

"No, you shouldn't," Kurt agrees, pressing his body against the bigger boy's. "It's wrong." He tangles his fingers in the hairs on the back of Dave's neck, bringing their mouths together gently. "I have a boyfr-" His sentence is cut short by Dave's tongue thrusting into his open mouth, and all thoughts of resisting are abandoned.

Before either of them realize it, Dave has managed to get Kurt's shirt off, a feat that not even Blaine has accomplished, and is lightly peppering the boy's chest with open-mouthed kisses. Kurt is squirming against him, all the words pouring out of his mouth jumbled together in a moan that can only be described as pornographic. Kurt rips Dave's shirt over his head, putting them on equal ground, and gasps when he finally sees what Dave's been hiding under those ridiculous Bullywhip jackets: muscles. What Kurt once mistook for flab turns out to be solid, lightly-tanned muscles that twist and roil under Dave's skin.

Kurt pulls away for a second, and Dave is immediately wary, but then he sees the lust-blown expression on Kurt's face and stops worrying. Kurt is memorizing him, drinking in the broad shoulders, the perfectly defined arms and the surprisingly flat stomach. Kurt is eating his words, taking back every "Hamhock" and "Not my type" he has ever spoken about Dave. Because the truth is, Dave is absolutely his type.

This revelation seems to clear Kurt's mind enough so that he has full control of his thoughts and actions again. "Wait," he pleads when Dave tries to move closer. "We…can't do this." He pauses, biting his lip. "I can't do this to Blaine."

Dave's shoulders slump a little in defeat. But then, he knew that this was how it was going to play out. Kurt deserves someone who will hold his hand in the halls, someone who will hold his man-purse while he shops to his heart's content. He needs someone with more courage than Dave can ever hope to possess, because even though Dave has just come out (less than a half hour ago, to be exact), it will be a long time before he will be comfortable with open displays of affection.

"I know," he says dejectedly. "But…if that were to ever change…I mean-" His voices catches, and he wills himself not to cry in front of Kurt. Again. "I just want a chance."

Kurt slips his shirt back on with shaky hands. "I love Blaine, David." The knife in Dave's heart twists a little deeper. "But…if I ever find myself single again, you can bet that we will definitely pursue this."

Dave's heart sinks with this new knowledge, this knowing that Kurt is so close and yet so far away. But for now, it is enough. They straighten their clothing without speaking, and when both boys have moved toward the door, Dave figures, what the hell. He envelopes Kurt's tiny body, whispering all the things he is too afraid to say out loud. Kurt smiles, gives Dave a chaste kiss on the cheek, and they part ways.

Don't worry, guys. This isn't the end of this story. I will continue, so long as the reviews continue. If you want Kurtofsky, tell me. If you want Klaine, tell me. I live to serve.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave and Kurt don't speak for weeks. Their conflicting schedules have made that part easy, but then there's the hallways. Avoiding someone in a high school as small as McKinley is almost impossible, and though Dave's eyes are always on him, Kurt pretends they aren't. It's easier that way. So he lies to himself, tells himself that the burn of Dave's stare doesn't melt something in his heart.

Dave has become a sort of recluse. Ever since the kiss that officially outed him, all of his former friends have treated him like a leper. Hockey has been almost unbearable; the guys try not to change in front of him, which is ridiculous. Dave wants to stand on one of the benches in the locker room and scream "Just because I like dick, doesn't mean I want yours!" but decides that it might be best to avoid any other outbursts for a while.

Kurt sees the pain and the hurt on Dave's face, and he wants so badly to reach out and hold him, but he knows that physical contact of any kind will lead to half-naked groping, which he has promised to reserve only for Blaine. But Blaine has been scarce for the past couple of weeks, cancelling at the last minute, showing up late, very un-Blaine things. And while that is no excuse to let Dave touch him in dirty places (even though he REALLY wants him to), Kurt has decided that there's no reason why he and Dave can't spend a little time together as friends. After all, two gay men can be friends without sex getting in the way. At least, that's what Kurt has to tell himself.

Dave almost drops his phone when he sees the number that comes up. He wills himself not to hyperventilate, but the "Hello?" he says sounds a little breathy.

"David." Kurt's voice is formal, just this side of cold, but not unpleasant. "I have to talk to you."

"O…kay. Go ahead." Dave twists his shirt in his hands, a habit he does when he's nervous. Because he is damn nervous right now.

"I would like…to spend some time with you." Kurt can practically hear Dave gulp and feels a weird sense of pride to be responsible for Dave's undoing. "Understand that this will strictly be a friends-only offer, and it will expire in one minute. I will hang up now. If I don't hear back from you in sixty seconds, I will assume that you don't want to hang out just as friends. And that will be fine, too." And before Dave can even get a syllable in to object, he hears the dial tone.

Dave just looks at the phone. "That…bitch!" He exclaims incredulously, quickly dialing Kurt's number. Kurt answers before the phone even has a chance to ring, and Dave doesn't give him a chance to speak. "How dare you call me after avoiding me like the plague and drop offers of pity-friendship that sound suspiciously like ultimatums?" He growls.

Kurt is dumbfounded. "That may be the most intelligent thing I have ever heard you say." Dave takes a breath for round two, but Kurt beats him to it. "I miss you, Dave. I miss you walking me safely to class every day. I miss your smile. I even miss you calling me Fancy, and if you tell anyone that, I'll kill you."

Dave laughs. He doesn't mean to, it just sort of sneaks out. He hears a disgusted, undignified snort come from Kurt, and he quickly says, "Don't hang up again, Kurt, please! I'm sorry for laughing. I know this is a serious conversation. And…if you're willing, I'd love to spend more time with you." He hesitates, then adds, "I wanna know you, Kurt. On a deeper level than I know anyone else."

There is a long pause where both boys are anxiously waiting. Kurt finally clears his throat. "I am. Willing." Dave is practically beaming, but then Kurt brings him back down to the real world too quickly. "Blaine is my boyfriend, David. And until that is not the case, we're going to have to establish ground rules. Like no making out. Strike that, no kissing of any kind. And…we should probably limit any physical contact we have with each other-"

"Goddamn it, Fancy, why don't you just get a plastic bubble?" Dave huffs. Kurt is quiet, and Dave is afraid he's hung up again, until he hears Kurt's even breathing. "Fine. I agree to your conditions. No kissing, minimal touching."

They make a plan to get together the next day for coffee, and when they hang up, both boys are thinking the exact same thing: "I give the no-kissing thing a week."

Sorry the end is so abrupt. I ran out of words. But fear not...I have some ideas cooking on my back burner.


	4. Chapter 4

"So…"

"So…"

And that is all that Kurt and Dave have said to each other since they met at the Lima Bean for coffee a half hour ago. Oh, sure, there are plenty of things that they COULD be talking about, but neither is sure of how to initiate conversation. They haven't really done this much, getting together for conversations that don't end in either screaming matches or inappropriate fondling. Kurt's mind is spinning, trying to come up with safe topics. He takes a sip of his mocha, letting the bitter taste clear his thoughts.

He settles on, "How's school been for you?" It's a non-sexual, if not potentially painful, subject. Dave looks up at him, his eyes saying almost everything. Kurt can see that the boy hasn't been sleeping well. He wants so desperately to cup Dave's face in his hand, but he knows he can't.

Dave clears his throat. "Well, Azimio finally spoke to me today. Long enough to tell me that he doesn't care if I'm 'gayer than a picnic basket', but as long as we're in school, I'm not to address him in public. That felt real good." He chuckles darkly. "I never knew how bad it could be, Kurt. How bad YOU had it."

Kurt gazes at him sympathetically. "I know, Dave. But it WILL get better, I promise." A thought occurs to him, one that has occurred to him before, but he's never had the opportunity to verbalize it to Dave. "I have an idea." Dave looks at him hopefully, and it breaks Kurt's heart. "Now, it may be something you're not too keen on, but please just hear me out."

"You helped me come out, Kurt. I will do almost anything for you at this point," Dave says bluntly, and Kurt flushes an attractive pink.

He decides it's best to just blurt it out and see what happens. "You should join Glee."

There is a long pause. Dave freezes, his mouth hanging open slightly. Kurt takes Dave's silence as his cue to keep going. "I know you think Glee is stupid, and maybe it is sometimes. I mean, Rachel Berry alone is a deterrent. But I have never felt freer anywhere. I can be myself there, Dave, and know that no one is staring at me in disgust, or talking about how I'm a dirty little faggot." Dace flinches at the last word, because he's used it, and in the not-too distant past, too.

"Kurt…" Dave begins, then rethinks what he was going to say. He takes a huge gulp of his chai tea before he continues. "I have thought about being in Glee. Ever since that football game, I have had a secret respect for what you guys do. Singing and dancing like that, hearing the crowd go wild…I never thought it could be like that for something other than football. But I see a couple of giant road blocks in my way."

Kurt smiled wanly, reaching into his satchel (which is apparently the official name for his man-purses, or so he told Dave) for a notepad and a pen. "Okay. Let's hear them."

"You're seriously making a pro-con list?" Dave asks incredulously.

Kurt nods, uncapping the pen. "I most certainly am. Now, I believe that under the pro column, you should include 'getting to be myself.'" He writes this in tiny, perfect handwriting. "What else?"

Dave rubs his chin. "Okay. In the con column, put 'merciless slushie-ing by entire football team.'"

Kurt mock-glares at him. "Um…'slushie-ing' is not a word, but okay. Ooh, under the pros, you could put 'get to see Kurt Hummel's beautiful face every day.'" He says it lightly, but the mood at the table instantly changes. Dave turns a flattering shade of scarlet, and Kurt hides a triumphant smile.

"You can write that." Dave says it so softly, he isn't sure that Kurt hears him. Until Kurt chokes on the sip of coffee he's drinking. He stares at Dave with those incredibly blue eyes, almost daring him to go there. So he does. "I won't lie, Kurt. Seeing you every day for one uninterrupted hour, where I wouldn't have to physically restrain myself from looking at you would be worth every slushie facial the guys on the team could hit me with."

Kurt's throat constricts. Blaine has never said anything so romantic. Well, okay, there was the whole "you move me, Kurt" speech he heard months ago, but nothing since then. And it means twice as much coming from Dave Karofsky, the last person in the world Kurt ever thought could make his stomach go flip-flop. He feels the tears coming, and he curses his sensitive nature, but he manages to hold it together long enough to do what he swore he wouldn't do: he reaches across the table and threads his fingers through Dave's.

Dave's heart stutters when Kurt's soft hand is suddenly in his larger one, and he tries not to stroke Kurt's fingers, but Kurt beats him to it. "Thank you," is all Kurt can manage before he silently breaks down. Dave is uncomfortable watching men cry, but this is Kurt (_your Kurt_, a tiny voice at the back of his mind whispers gleefully). So he just holds Kurt's hand while he cries, thinking of all the ways he can turn that frown upside down.

**Dum Dum Dum… Ending things on a slightly dirty note…more chapters to come. Don't worry, Blaine should be gone by the next one.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Well…isn't this interesting?"

Kurt stands in the open doorway of Blaine's dorm room, surprised and yet unsurprised at the scene unfolding before him. He had heard low voices through Blaine's closed door, and though that in itself wasn't suspicious, the barely contained moan was. So he cautiously inched open the door to find his boyfriend, the guy who was supposed to be sick with the flu (or so he said on the phone), horizontal, and on the floor no less, with a sophomore whose name Kurt can't even remember. Was it Darren? Dolph? Ah, Darryl.

The sound of the Tupperware container full of soup that Kurt had brought hitting the tiled floor is what breaks the two boys apart, and now Darryl is looking like he wants to throw up, whereas Blaine's face alternates between incredibly guilty and inexcusably bored. But the moment his eyes meet Blaine's, Kurt sees what he was afraid of: relief. Blaine is relieved to get caught. And it makes Kurt sick.

"So let me see if I've got this straight: you're cheating on me…with a sophomore…on the floor, where Lord knows how many dirty bare feet have been?"

Blaine finally finds his voice. "Kurt, listen-"

"No." Kurt's voice is low, controlled, not exactly unkind but not his usual sweetness either. "I don't think I need to hear anything you have to say. Because you didn't tell me about this; I had to catch you. Which tells me that this could have gone on for months more and you wouldn't have said a word. I mean, why would you, when you're getting everything _you_ want?"

He doesn't even bother to pick up the soup container. Just leaves it on the floor, turns on his heels, and stalks away. He's proud of himself. Plus, he knew that someday he'd have the perfect dramatic exit. Wes and David are walking towards him down the hall, warm smiles on their faces that fade when they see the half-crazed look in Kurt's eyes. David opens his mouth to speak, but Kurt walks past them like he doesn't see them.

He's lucky; he makes it to the parking lot before the tears come, and by the time he slams the door of his Denali and flings his satchel into the backseat, his throat is almost completely closed. He makes a wet, hacking sound that isn't a cough, but a choked back sob. _No_. He will _not _fall apart. He will not give Blaine the satisfaction.

Before he realizes he's doing it, he has dialed a familiar number. "I need you to come to the Lima Bean. Now. Right now. Blaine…is over. So over."

Dave Karofsky hangs up the phone and waits exactly two seconds before grabbing a clean shirt and his keys. He had been playing Halo when Kurt called, but the game is now long forgotten. He pauses briefly on the front step, and lets himself do a celebration dance that hopefully none of the neighbors see. He breaks the land speed record getting to the coffee shop, and he is waiting for Kurt when he finally arrives.

Kurt stumbles through the front door, his eyes lighting on Dave immediately. Without needing to elaborate, he jerks his head in the direction of the parking lot. Dave follows him without question, and when Kurt drives them to a very quiet corner of the Lima Community Park, his heart flip-flops in his chest.

Kurt slams the car into park and kills the engine. There is two minutes (Dave counts) of utter silence before Kurt clears his throat. "He was on the floor. With a sophomore. Rolling around on that-that _filthy _floor." His voice is shaking with anger, and Dave feels guilty for his earlier glee (pardon the pun). "And the only thing I can really think about is the floor aspect. Isn't that stupid?"

Dave isn't sure if this is a rhetorical question or if he's expected to answer. So he opts to answer meekly, "No, it's not. You're in shock." He reaches out a hand to place over Kurt's, hesitates briefly, then decides to just go for it. Kurt flinches a little before flipping his hand over so that his long fingers can entwine with Dave's shorter ones.

They sit like that for a long time, not saying anything because there is really nothing TO say. Dave has no words to take away Kurt's pain, and trying to crack jokes would feel like he's minimizing the crisis. So he just holds Kurt's hand and takes deep breaths. And when Kurt takes his hand back, Dave is slightly disappointed, but that quickly becomes confusion, because Kurt is unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. He isn't sure he's supposed to follow until Kurt immediately opens the back door and slides into the backseat.

There are now two Daves in the car. One is a horny seventeen-year-old who is sitting alone with a boy that he has been pathetically in love with for years. The other is a reasonable almost-adult who sees that trying anything with Kurt right now would be very bad. Because it _would _just be a rebound thing, no matter how hard Kurt would try to convince him otherwise later. But Horny Dave eventually wins and soon enough he is sitting next to Kurt in the backseat, frozen in equal parts fear and lust.

"I don't want to think about this right now. I…can't think about this right now. I need to concentrate on something else. And you're the only one I trust, believe it or not." Dave's heart swells when he hears that, but he sees that Kurt isn't finished talking, so he lets him continue. "I have one question to ask, and please do not let my intense vulnerability become any kind of factor in your answer."

Dave nods for him to go on. Kurt swallows hard, takes a deep breath, and blurts out, "If I asked you to make love to me right now, would you do it?"

Dave's mind reels. Of course, he would! He's only been waiting for this moment forever. But Responsible Dave, the rat bastard, makes him say something else entirely. "No. Not here, not like this. I don't want my first time with a guy that I really care about to be in the backseat of a Denali. It's gonna sound corny, but I want it to be special, and if we do this now, you're only gonna regret it later. You're hurting right now, and no matter what you say, part of you wants to do this to get back at Blaine. And while I would love to be the one to help you with that, I just…can't do this." Kurt's face crumples, and Dave feels the fissure in his heart splinter a little more.

"I'll make out with you though." Kurt's eyes snap up to meet Dave's, which are shining in the semi-darkness of the backseat. Kurt doesn't need to be told twice. He slowly swings his left leg around Dave's lap, straddling him. Their groins brush against each other briefly, and Kurt moans low in his throat but doesn't grind down like he wants to. Instead, he plops down, his ass resting on Dave's knees. Dave scoots forward slightly so that Kurt can wrap his long legs around Dave's torso. They sit there for a second, breathing deeply in unison, until Dave finally leans in to brush a chaste kiss against Kurt's lips.

Kurt is the one who deepens the kiss, tracing Dave's swollen lips with the tip of his tongue before Dave allows him entrance. They kiss languidly, like time has no meaning. Dave's hands are everywhere: in Kurt's hair, cupping his face, caressing his arms, sliding down to the small of his back. When he gently squeezes his ass, Kurt's moans get louder, and he grinds down without thinking.

All of the blood leaves Dave's brain and heads south. He grips Kurt's narrow hips and thrusts up against his crotch, letting out a very pornographic groan into Kurt's ear. Kurt moves quicker, bucking his hips with short staccato jerks. Dave's eyes roll back in his head, because he's close, and he's never been this close with another person in the room. Car. Whatever.

"Kurt," he chokes out, "you need to stop. You're gonna make me come."

A twist of real heat races through Kurt's body, making him dizzy. Or maybe that's the lack of blood to his brain. He's right there with Dave; he has never been this hard before, not even with Blaine. And a dim part of him knows that if he keeps moving like this, there's no going back. But damn it, he doesn't care.

"I want you to." Kurt breathes these four little words into Dave's ear, and that's it. Dave explodes in his pants, holding Kurt against him as he rides his orgasm out. He sees tiny pinpoints of light dancing in front of his eyes, and he jerks up a few more times, which is all Kurt needs to have his own release. Kurt clutches Dave's head to his chest as the warmth of his own orgasm turns his body to jelly.

A few seconds pass. Kurt's breathing is uneven, his heart racing. Dave's head hangs back limply, like he doesn't even have the strength to hold it up. "God almighty," Dave whispers, a slow grin forming. "If I'd known that's what gay guys are capable of doing together, I would have come out ages ago."

Kurt wants to playfully slap him, but he's still trying to regain feeling in his limbs. So he's content to just sit there, his pants sticking to Dave's in an embarrassing and disgusting way that feels perfect, and bask in this moment. This perfect moment. With the guy he…

_Oh my Gaga_, Kurt thinks. _I love Dave Karofsky_.


	6. Chapter 6

"Um. So. That just happened."

Kurt chuckles to himself. He just came in his pants, sitting on Dave Karofsky's lap, and THAT is the first thing that Dave utters. Well, once his breathing has evened out. Kurt has moved to sit next to Dave, so they could both calm down, and now that the cloud of lust isn't covering his brain, Kurt is seeing clearly enough to process. Okay. His jeans are ruined, but it is a small sacrifice to make for a moment as perfect as this one. He glances over at Dave's jeans, which are noticeably wet and look a little sticky. Ick.

"I need to shower," Kurt says, but he says it with a smile on his face so that Dave knows not to take it the wrong way. "And judging by the look of your clothes, you could do with a shower too."

Dave ponders this. He is beginning to feel the sticky mess in his pants, but he is still too blissed out to care. "'kay. I should probably get home anyway. Unless you were thinking...of showering...together." He draws out the last sentence slowly, afraid of the answer either way. On the one hand, seeing Kurt Hummel naked would just about be like when bible-thumpers think they see Jesus or something: a religious experience. But on the other hand, that would mean that Kurt would see HIM naked, a notion that clenches Dave's stomach in knots.

Kurt considers this. "I think that would be moving too fast." His head is a lot clearer post-orgasmic bliss, and while he is not sorry that it happened, dry-humping another guy two hours after breaking up with Blaine kind of makes him a little bit slutty. He smiles to himself. _Take that, Mr. You-Have-No-Sex-Appeal Anderson. _"And I think we should be away from each other." He sees Dave's face fall, so he quickly adds, "just for a couple of days. Let me wrap my head around this. And tell my dad."

Dave gulps loudly. He had forgotten about that. He'll have to do the whole Meet the Parents thing. Too bad Burt Hummel already hates him with the fiery burn of a thousand suns. But then he realizes what Kurt is saying to him. He lights up like Times Square at Christmas. "Wait, so...if you tell your dad, does that mean...?"

Kurt's heart is near bursting when he sees the blind adoration in Dave's eyes. "Yes, David. It means that once I have had time to process all this, I fully intend to make you take me out on a date. With door-holding and nice food and maybe even a public display of affection or two." He suddenly looks much younger and shyer, staring at his hands in his lap. "Because I never had that with him. He would pay for dinner, sure, but he never wanted to hold hands or cuddle with other people around. I don't know what he was so damn afraid of."

Dave understands Blaine's actions; it will take him awhile to get comfortable with himself, let alone how other people see him. But he's willing to try. For Kurt. Kurt drives him back to the doffee shop, making sure to drop him off as close to his car as possible. After all, the huge wet stain on his pants can only mean so many things, and none of them are good. And before Dave can climb out of the Denali, Kurt quickly swoops in for a final kiss. And maybe it lasted about, oh, five minutes longer than he intended. But Dave doesn't care. He has someone who truly cares about him, and he's not about to let him go.

* * *

><p>More smutty deliciousness to come in future chapters. I HAD to have them be serious for a second. Also, the rating will probably go up to M; I think I pressed my luck with the last chapter.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry it took so long. My AC adapter died a horrible death, and it took forever to get a new one. Sorry if it lacks smut, but the next chapter will be smut-rific.

* * *

><p>The next two days are nothing short of torture for Dave Karofsky. It's bad enough that he and Kurt have to see each other in school, but they also have to meet after school on Friday to discuss PFLAG. Dave can control himself during class, because he knows that he has to pay attention or he'll fail. But when Kurt is sitting across from him at the Lima Bean after two full days of no physical or verbal contact, it's all he can do to just sit on his hands and hope he doesn't pop too noticeable an erection. They ARE in public, after all.<p>

"-ave. Dave. DAVE!" Dave's shaken out of his hormone-induced stupor by a delicate hand waving in front of his face. "You alive in there?" Kurt asks, one artfully sculpted brow raised playfully.

Dave clears his throat. "Yep, um…yep." _Excellent, Dave. Very articulate. _He tries again. "So, where do we begin?"

Kurt reaches down to grab something out of his messenger bag, and the soft tunic he's wearing slips slowly down one shoulder. Dave's mind goes completely blank; all he can see is that tiny patch of milky pale skin, and all he can think is how he'd like to mark it, suck on that skin until blood rises to the surface in a perfect oval-shaped-

"David. You're being a creeper right now." Dave's eyes snap up to meet Kurt's, and his neck flushes a deep scarlet. "Not that I particularly mind you staring at my shoulder, but we have things to accomplish here." Kurt lays out a few manila folders. "Now, there is an established PFLAG chapter in Lima, but none in any of the local high schools, so we're blazing a trail. I've photocopied all the information I could find about starting a new chapter, and it turns out there's some paperwork we have to fill out in order to become…affiliated or something."

Dave scans through the printouts, his eyes soaking up all the new information. He had no idea that Lima had its own chapter until now. But then, why would he, when he's spent so much time trying to convince himself that he wasn't gay. Yep. No denying that now, especially after having a beautiful boy writhing on his lap.

Kurt glances at Dave and exhales disgustedly. "You're thinking dirty things, aren't you?" He accuses, and Dave doesn't even try to deny it, just leans back in his chair with a dopey smile on his face. "Okay, maybe we should just do this another time. Unless you think you can get your perverted ADD under control."

Dave chuckles. "Can't help it, Fancy." He inwardly rejoices when Kurt puffs up a little at the nickname. "I haven't been this close to you in 48 long hours. And to tell you the truth, all I wanna do is crawl in the back of your Denali and continue where we left off."

Kurt looks taken aback, his eyes going a darker shade of gray. "Dave. We can't." But his words have less conviction than they should. He clears his throat and tries again. "We have to take this slow."

Dave smiles. "I know. I just said that's what I want to do, not what I expect to happen. Because, and I'm so turning into a punk bitch as I say this, I respect you enough to wait. Forever, if need be."

Kurt feels his resolve going down fast, and as he clutches to the edges of it, he feels something unexpected: Dave's hand resting on his thigh. The table they're sitting at offers no cover; anybody could see, and Dave doesn't seem to care. And things are about to get interesting, because in walks Azimio and a few other guys from the football team.

Kurt immediately freezes, trying his hardest to remove Dave's hand from his thigh, but Dave just grips it a little tighter. "Kurt. Stop. They're gonna figure it out eventually. Best to get it over with. And it's better that it's in a public place, 'cause it would be a lot easier to kill us if there weren't witnesses."

Kurt glares at him but stops fighting. He holds his breath as Azimio notices Dave. Kurt watches the confusion on his face, which dissolves into understanding, which melts into anger. Kurt clenches, waiting for a jock fight of epic proportions, but nothing happens. Azimio just shakes his head sadly, mumbles something to the other guys, and they all leave together.

The table is silent for a minute. "Well," Kurt finally muses. "That was anticlimactic."

Dave can't resist. "You wanted a climax? 'Cause all you gotta do is ask."


	8. Chapter 8

_After Kurt smacks Dave hard enough to leave a welt, and after Dave promises to keep his comments PG-13, they get back to their discussion. Each boy reads in silence for a few minutes, poring over the mountain of research that Kurt has done. Every so often, one or the other will say something like, "Hmm. Interesting." Or, "Huh. Learn something new every day." Dave is a surprisingly fast reader, Kurt notes. He finishes before Kurt and sits back to wait. _

_Kurt sets down the final folder with a sigh. "Wow. I didn't know as much about this as I thought." He takes a sip of his coffee and cringes; it's cold, and there's nothing worse than cold coffee. He goes to stand up, fully intending to get a refill, but Dave's also surprisingly fast on his feet too, and has Kurt's mug in his hand before Kurt's even upright. "I can get my own coffee," Kurt mumbles, but Dave's already out of earshot. When he's sure Dave can't see him anymore, he lets himself smile softly. _

_Isn't my boyfriend dreamy?_ The sarcastic voice in his head drones nasally, bringing him back to reality. He thanks Dave for the refill and takes a scalding sip to clear his mind of such ridiculous things. Of course, he also succeeds in burning most of the taste buds off his tongue in the process. "Oww, effing HOT!" He squeals, and Dave wordlessly hands Kurt his glass of ice water. When he's regained his composure (well, except for his bright pink cheeks), he points an accusatory finger at Dave. "One word and we're done."

Dave holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Nope. I've got nothin'." He smiles fondly at Kurt, and without even realizing what he's doing, he's softly caressing Kurt's cheek with the back o his hand. "You're beautiful when you blush." This only increases the source of Dave's affection; Kurt turns scarlet, but instead of pulling away (which Dave expected), he leans into the touch. Dave puffs up a little, and continues, "I mean, you're beautiful always, but when your face flushes…it makes me feel warm inside. And only in a _vaguely _dirty way."

That breaks the spell. "See, this is why we shouldn't be allowed near each other," Kurt says as he squirms away from Dave's hand. "We try to just hang out, and then there's touching." When he sees Dave's face fall, he amends, "Granted, I enjoyed the touching, but that is beside the point."

Dave wait's a second for responding. "So…you like me touching you, but you don't think I _should _be touching you?" He scratches his head. "Help me out here, Kurt, because that doesn't make any sense to me."

Kurt thinks for a second. "Okay," he says, leaning forward, "I think I can explain it to you like this. I…have been so used to a certain kind of touch from you. A violent one. All I ever thought I'd get from you was punches or locker-slams or the occasional forced make-out session in the locker room." Dave flinches, but he nods. "And now that you're touching me in a gentle way, it's throwing me off. And I guess I'm just waiting for the hand stroking my face to turn into a slap."

Dave's heart drops into his stomach. "Is that what this is about? You're still afraid of me?" Kurt looks down at the floor and nods weakly. Dave swallows back a wave of tears, because he feels absolutely horrible. He and Kurt were more than close in the back of his Denali; he had just assumed that once they came together, the most intimate thing you can do with another person, Kurt trusted him more. But he was wrong, apparently.

Dave makes a snap decision. "Kurt. I want you to pack all this up and come somewhere with me. And don't worry," He adds when he sees the apprehension on Kurt's face, "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to try something, and I don't think I should do it here." These words don't reassure Kurt either, but his curiosity is piqued. So he obliges, gathering the research and shoving it back into his bag. He follows Dave out to the parking lot, but instead of getting into Dave's car, he heads toward his. "I'll follow you," he says, and Dave nods.

break-

"Um…why are we here?"

They're parked in a lot near the beach. No one else is in sight; after all, it's early October in Ohio. Anybody would be crazy to come here now. Case in point. Dave ventures over to Kurt's Denali, and instead of sliding into the passenger seat, he casually opens the back door and hops in. Kurt glares at him in the rearview mirror. "Seriously?"

"Just get back here please." Dave sounds nervous, and that is never a good sign. But Kurt figures, what the hell? So he unbuckles his seatbelt, and soon enough they are in exactly the same position they were a few short days ago.

There is a long pause. Kurt breaks it with "Are we just going to stare at each other?"

Dave takes a deep breath, then removes his coat. His collared shirt is the next to go. Kurt makes a noise of protest, but Dave holds up a hand for him to wait. When the shirt is balled up in the back, he turns to face Kurt, whose face has that delicious flush that Dave loves so much. "You don't trust me, Kurt. So…I thought that to show you how much of a threat I am NOT, I'm opening myself up entirely to you." He holds out his arms as much as he can in such close quarters. "Touch me. Punch me. Anything you want to do to me, do it now. And I promise that until you ask me to, I will not lay one finger on you."

Kurt inhales sharply. And, like Dave, there are two Kurts in the car. One is screaming for him to ran away quickly (and with as much dignity and style as he can muster). But now there's a new Kurt, one that only shows up when something saucy is about to occur. This Kurt is sort of like a horny cheerleader. No, really, he's wearing the Cheerios uniform and holding pom-poms made out of condom wrappers. THAT Kurt is whispering, "Oh come on, boy. Look at this lean order of beef. You can't just leave it, it'll spoil. Take it. Enjoy it." (Apparently, Horny Kurt is also hungry. And not very witty. Must be the lack of blood flow to the brain.)

Dave holds his breath as Kurt reaches out with one shaking hand to press his palm against Dave's left pectoral muscle, right above his heart. Kurt can feel it hammering in his chest, and his own heartbeat picks up speed. His long pale fingers look even paler compared to Dave's tawny skin. He lightly combs his fingers through the thin smattering of chest hair, and Dave shudders out a breath. It's taking everything in him not to move, not to grab Kurt and do things to him that he has only imagined before. But he promised: not one touch of a fingertip until Kurt asks.

Kurt sees that Dave is keeping his word; encouraged, he reaches out his other hand and strokes Dave's cheek, watching how the blood rises to his skin like he's on fire inside. Which is pretty accurate; Dave is feeling a slow burning heat permeate throughout his body. He's so distracted by it that he doesn't notice Kurt unbutton his own coat and shuck it off, followed closely by his tunic.

"David." Kurt's voice is barely a whisper. "Give me your hand."

Dave has lost most control of his basic motor functions, but he manages to raise one hand weakly. Kurt takes it in his own and guides it to the same spot over his heart. Dave whimpers at the feel of Kurt's porcelain skin, but he can also feel Kurt's heartbeat through his fingers. It is thrumming violently, and Dave understands. Kurt _does _feel the same way about him. And that revelation is strong enough to mend every crack in Dave's heart.

"Kurt," Dave chokes out. "My dad left on a business trip last night. I have the house to myself for a couple of days."

Kurt looks up at him, his gray eyes dark and shining. "Then why the hell did you take me to a beach when we could have been in a nice warm bed by now?"


	9. Chapter 9

Dave has never driven so recklessly before, considering the precious cargo he's hauling. He breaks every traffic law for the state of Ohio to get to his house, and Kurt is being no help to him at all. Instead, he has Dave's right hand between his own, lightly kissing his fingertips. Occasionally he'll get more brazen and suck one into his mouth; once, he takes Dave's middle finger down to the second knuckle, and Dave swerves the car accidentally as all the blood rushes from his head and leaves him dizzy.

"Kurt," he warns, taking his hand back, "we have to at least _make_ it to my house in one piece. No more finger sucking."

"Never thought I'd hear _you _say that," Kurt pouts, but he remains still for the rest of the short trip.

Dave whips into the driveway like a stunt driver and barely has time to put it in Park before he flies out of the car and practically rips open Kurt's door. Kurt steps out of the car daintily, and Dave swoops in to heft him over his shoulder. Kurt lets out a surprised squeak and proceeds to swat at Dave's lower back and ass. "Put me down, you Neanderthal, I am capable of walking!" He shouts, but Dave's having none of it.

Before Kurt has realized where they are, Dave is dumping him unceremoniously onto what Kurt assumes is Dave's bed. While Dave turns back around to make sure the door is both shut and locked (because one can never be too careful), Kurt has a split second to look around. It's a typical boy's room: football posters, piles of dirty laundry, and…shut UP. "You play?" Kurt asks, dumbfounded, motioning toward the guitar propped in the corner of the room.

Dave nods shyly. "Not as good as I wish. But I'm gettin' there." There is a brief pause; both boys are just staring at each other. Kurt's eyes have gone stormy gray, his fists clenching the sheets in anticipation. He has never been this hard before, and nothing's even happened yet. Dave's in pretty much the same boat, except that his eyes have gone from light hazel to deep amber.

"Kurt." His name has never sounded so sexy. "If we do this…we really did this. There's no going back from here." Dave means to sound serious, but his voice comes out all husky and distracting. All Kurt can think about is how much he'd love to hear that voice screaming his name. He's appalled at the thought; he's KURT, for crying out loud. The same gawky, too thin, too pale gay boy who has the sex appeal of a baby penguin. He's not supposed to have depraved thoughts like this. But then his mind goes completely blank when Dave's hands hover at the hem of his shirt before slowly dragging it over his head.

Kurt's seen Dave shirtless before, but this time feels very different. For one thing, they are unequivocally alone; for another, there are no time restraints. No classes to get to, no friends to interrupt them. Dave shuffles his feet nervously, seeming to be grappling internally with something. He finally nods to himself, closes his eyes, and unzips his jeans. He slides them down at a glacial speed, and every inch they fall turns Kurt a deeper shade of red. But the time they hit the floor, Kurt's surprised he hasn't burst into flames.

Dave's wearing crimson boxer-briefs, which honestly surprises Kurt. It also (inappropriately) brings to mind a line from Will and Grace: "The homosexual is the leading exponent of the underpant hybrid." He can't help a tiny giggle from escaping, and he regrets it immediately. Dave hears the giggle and is mortified. _God. I was crazy to bring him here. He's laughing at me._ He moves to put his pants back on, but Kurt makes a guttural noise in his throat and practically tackles Dave's legs.

"Don't…you dare…get dressed," Kurt pleads. "I just had a funny thought that is completely not related to the situation at hand." He looks up at Dave and realizes just how close he is to Dave's crotch. Dave stifles a gasp when Kurt experimentally reaches up a timid hand to lightly palm Dave through his underwear. _Good Lord_, he thinks. _He's friggin' huge. _

"Dave." Kurt's voice is suddenly very small, and Dave is terrified that he's changed his mind. But his heart stops in the next second. "I want to touch you."

Dave makes a noise of acceptance that isn't even human speech. He can't think with all of his blood otherwise engaged somewhere other than his brain. Kurt curls his fingers under the waistband and tugs them down quickly before he loses his nerve. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor for a few moments before swallowing hard and glancing up.

_How can a penis be magnificent? _Kurt stares unabashedly at Dave's throbbing cock like it's the fucking ninth wonder of the world; he traces the veins with his eyes, mapping out every inch, every curve. He swallows again, but this time his mouth waters a little. "I'm going to try something," he says without thinking, and Dave moans deeply as Kurt's tongue snakes out to curl around the head, tasting pre-cum and finding that it's not so terrible.

Kurt decides to be bold. He cautiously wraps his lips around the head and sucks gently. Big mistake. Dave thrusts unintentionally, driving half of his length into Kurt's surprised mouth. And this is when they both learn something new about Kurt Hummel: he has no gag reflex. Kurt moans around Dave's cock and starts bobbing up and down like a pro. He figures that what he lacks in skill, he'll sure make up for with enthusiasm.

Dave is so overcome with pleasure he doesn't realize that he's still standing until his knees start to give out. He stops Kurt long enough to motion to the bed. "Can we…?" Kurt nods, but before he can lay down, Dave puts a hand on Kurt's chest. "Wait. I feel kind of stupid being this naked alone." Kurt is confused, but then Dave begins unbuttoning his shirt and he understands. Off comes the shirt, then the pants. Dave gazes down at Kurt's covered erection and licks his lips. Kurt can sense Dave's hesitation, so he takes his hand and guides it down to his dick.

"Oh God," Dave moans wantonly. He strokes Kurt slowly through his underwear, feeling him harden, lengthen. Kurt can't take it anymore; he slaps Dave's hand away long enough to rip his own underwear off and flings himself onto Dave's bed. Dave's still standing frozen to the spot, but when he sees Kurt lay back on his pillow, spread his legs sensually, smile at him invitingly, he dives next to Kurt.

The next few seconds are a flurry of flailing arms and legs, followed closely by an interlocking of hips. Kurt's growth spurt has put them almost equal in height, so their groins are able to fit together like puzzle pieces. Kurt almost screams in pleasure when he feels Dave's cock rubbing against his own. This is like what happened in the Denali, multiplied by infinity. Kurt has managed to maneuver himself on top of Dave, and now he grinds down into his crotch.

Then something happens that neither boy expected: Dave's cock, slippery with pre-cum, takes a detour past Kurt's and slips briefly into the crack of Kurt's ass. Kurt freezes like he's been struck by lightning and immediately hops off Dave's lap, curling his legs up to his torso. "Too fast…too fast," is all he can say, shaking his head. "_Sooo _good…but too fast."

Dave is laying stock-still, still unable to grasp what's happened. His dick is deep purple and so hard that he wants to cry. "Kurt, I'm sorry. We can slow down if you want," he reluctantly says, and Kurt looks down at him, his tension waning.

Kurt contemplates. "I don't _want _to slow down," he finally says quietly. "I'm just…scared shitless." And there it is. Bald-faced honesty. Kurt Hummel has finally found something he is truly terrified of: intimacy.

Dave sits up, his erection softening enough to make thinking a little easier. "You think I'm not? Kurt…do you realize that this, hands-down, is the _one _thing I have on my bucket list? And not just having sex with you," he amends quickly when he hears Kurt snort indignantly, "being with you." He pauses, rephrases. "You letting me anywhere near you, really. I never thought…you said that I wasn't your…and I just…" Damn it. Now Dave's crying, and could he be more of a self-inflicting cock-blocker right now?

But those words are apparently all Kurt Hummel needs to hear, because suddenly his lips are crushing against Dave's, his tongue snaking around to explore every crevice of Dave's mouth. Dave brings their hips together again, but makes an effort to avoid any more slippage. He manages to maneuver Kurt underneath him again, and when their mouths disconnect with an audible pop, Dave trails his tongue down Kurt's cheek, along his jaw line, down his neck, down, down, down. He stops long enough to take a puffy nipple into his mouth and suck hard enough to make Kurt's hips buck violently. He dips his tongue into his belly-button, feeling the tip of Kurt's cock brush his chin.

"God, please." Kurt is writhing on the bed, crying out to a God that he's doesn't even believe in; at this point, he would willingly drop to his knees and promise to never shop again if it meant that his dick would be in Dave's mouth any faster. "Do it, Dave. I want you to."

This is all the encouragement Dave needs. With one swift movement, he engulfs Kurt's cock, swirling and sucking and stroking and so many things at once that Kurt thinks he may possibly black out before this is all over. He is so dangerously close, and dimly he is aware that cumming in someone's mouth without asking would be wrong, but he just can't form the words. So he does the only thing in his power; he reaches down and gives Dave's hair a sharp tug.

Dave immediately recognizes the gesture; it's what he used to do with the random Cheerio, because none of them ever wanted to swallow. But Dave is determined. So he ignores Kurt's warning, and instead he sucks even harder. Kurt's eyes roll completely back in his head, and he grips the sheets like they're the only thing keeping him from climbing the walls.

His orgasm starts in his toes. He can feel it burn like fire through his legs, up his hips, and when he starts spurting hot cum into Dave's mouth, he's lost most of the feeling in his body below the waist. And Dave, bless him, swallows every. Last. Drop. He doesn't stop sucking until Kurt physically stops him because he's too sensitive. He lets Kurt fall out of his mouth with a soft plop and shimmies up the bed until they are at eye level again. He looks so pleased with himself that Kurt can only roll his eyes.

"So…was it good for you?" Dave can't help but quip, wiggling his eyebrows. Kurt laughs shakily, still trying to regain some of his motor skills.

"Better than good, Dave. It was…I don't think I've ever felt anything like that." Kurt snuggles into Dave's chest briefly, listening to Dave's heartbeat. He thinks about this, about how unlikely this situation is. But somehow it all fits. THEY fit. And Kurt knows that Dave is the one. So, mustering every ounce of courage he can, he tilts his head just enough to whisper something in Dave's ear.

"I love you, David. Now fuck me."


	10. Chapter 10

_Kurt snuggles into Dave's chest briefly, listening to Dave's heartbeat. He thinks about this, about how unlikely this situation is. But somehow it all fits. THEY fit. And Kurt knows that Dave is the one. So, mustering every ounce of courage he can, he tilts his head just enough to whisper something in Dave's ear._

"_I love you, David. Now fuck me."_

Of all the things that Dave expects to hear come out of Kurt Hummel's mouth, THAT is at the very bottom. He almost thinks that his brain is playing an elaborate prank on him, that he couldn't possibly have heard him right. But when Kurt looks into his eyes and nods almost imperceptibly, Dave knows that this is honest-to-Jesus happening.

"A-Are you sure?" He stammers, hating how friggin' weak and vulnerable he sounds. But he would beg for this, get down on both knees and kiss the ground that Kurt Hummel walks on if it meant a chance like this. "W-We d-don't have t-" He can't even finish the sentence, he's shaking so hard. Half of it is pure nerves; thoughts are ricocheting around in his head (Will it hurt him? Will he like it? Will he want to do it to me too?). The other half is pure lust. He can't remember ever wanting to do anything more than this.

Kurt lays a reassuring hand on Dave's chest, softly tangling his fingers in the downy hair there. "It'll be fine, David. Just…okay, you need to get me ready for you." He looks around the room curiously. "Now, what are the chances of you having lube?"

Without missing a beat, Dave replies, "Nightstand. Bottom drawer, under the magazines." He blushes, but now is not the time to be shy, because Kurt is handing him a small bottle that he has become very familiar with of late. He squeezes a liberal amount on his first and middle finger and hands the bottle back to Kurt, who takes a little for himself and leans back against the pillows, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"Do you know what to do?" Kurt asks softly, and Dave nods jerkily. Kurt decides to be bolder. "Have you thought about this, David? About how your fingers would feel stretching me out for you?" Dave's whole body flushes deep scarlet, but he nods. "Then do it." And do it, he does. He reaches his hand out, takes a deep breath, and slowly inserts his index finger.

Kurt feels the pain immediately. He whimpers, and Dave stops. "No," Kurt murmurs, "keep going. I'll tell you when I've had enough." So Dave slides his finger in, down to the knuckle. He's not sure what else to do, so he sort of wiggles the finger around, stretching out Kurt's tight hole as gently as he can. When Kurt gives him the all-clear, he adds his middle finger. Kurt moans loudly in both pleasure and pain as he feels Dave's fingers quicken their pace, and when Dave crooks his middle finger just right, Kurt screams loud enough to startle him.

"Shit? What did I do?" Dave asks fearfully. "Did I hurt you?"

Kurt grits his teeth and grips the bed sheets. "Do…that…again," he growls, and Dave understands. He hits the small bundle of nerves again, and Kurt's vision gets a little hazy. "I'm ready, Dave," he moans wantonly, and Dave removes his fingers. Kurt whimpers at the emptiness, but he doesn't have long to feel empty, because Dave's cock is positioned just outside his hole.

Feeling the head push through the ring of muscle is something neither boy was ready for. Dave's not a virgin, not by a long shot. He's had too many Cheerios to count, but this feels different. It's his first time with another man, and good GOD is Kurt tight. Even with the stretching, it feels like his ass is clenching down around Dave's dick almost hard enough to hurt. Kurt tries to relax, but the pain is disorienting at first. He winces at each inch that is added, and by the time Dave is balls deep, he doesn't think he can take any more.

"Stop. Moving. Just for a second," Kurt manages to spit out, desperately trying to relax his muscles. Dave complies, holding his breath and trying not to thrust. Even though every synapse in his brain, every muscle in his body, is screaming for him to thrust. Kurt doesn't think the pain will ever stop, but gradually it fades.

After several agonizing minutes, he reaches up with one hand to trace Dave's lips with his finger. Dave moans against his hand and slowly glides out a few inches, only to thrust back in. It hurts, but not like before. Kurt draws Dave's torso closer to his own, feeling Dave's heart stutter with his own as the two move as one. This isn't fucking; this isn't sex. This is making love, corny as it sounds.

Dave's arms are getting a little tired of holding himself up, and when he moves to get into a more comfortable position, he slides in at a different angle, hitting the bundle of nerves directly. Kurt cries out in ecstasy and wraps his legs around Dave's midsection, pulling him deeper inside. "There," he says breathily. "Right there."

Dave moves again, but this time he doesn't try to be gentle. He thrusts hard, and Kurt digs his heels into Dave's back, bringing him down on top of him. The full weight of Dave makes it a little more difficult to breathe, but not so difficult that Kurt wants him to move. As long as Dave keeps hitting that spot (the prostate, if Kurt remembers correctly from the dreaded pamphlets), he can do pretty much whatever he wants to Kurt.

"I'm getting close," Kurt whispers into Dave's ear, and Dave quickens his pace, causing Kurt to babble incoherently. The only words Dave can make out is "harder" and "please", so he tries something he saw in a porn once: he lifts his body off of Kurt's and hooks Kurt's legs around his shoulders, elevating their bodies slightly. He gives one final deep thrust, and Kurt cums all over his chest, Dave's chest, the bed. He cums so hard and so long that he's almost afraid he'll pass out from the pleasure. Seeing Kurt's orgasm finishes Dave off, and he releases deep into Kurt's ass with a howl.

For a few seconds, neither speaks. Speech isn't possible. Dave rolls off of Kurt and to the side, and Kurt whimpers when he feels Dave slide out of him. He can already tell that he's going to be sore as shit tomorrow, but he doesn't care. The two breathe together as one, finally glancing at each other. Then Dave does something Kurt is not expecting: he laughs. Just a tiny one that bubbles up and out of his throat. Kurt raises an eyebrow. "Just what is so funny, mister?" He asks snarkily, but he smiles so Dave knows he's happy.

Dave laughs harder, his sides beginning to hurt. "I'm sorry…Kurt. I just…that was…the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I'm laughing to keep from crying, because who cries after having sex?" Kurt doesn't quite follow this logic, but he joins in, chuckling to himself.

"Come here, you big oaf," Kurt coos affectionately, and wraps himself in Dave's waiting embrace. They fall asleep like this, tangled together in a sweaty, cum-drenched heap, secure in the knowledge that this right here might be the perfect moment.

**And I'm spent. Whew, that took forEVER to write. Mostly 'cause I'm a little shy when it comes to sexuality. But I've been working on it, so I hope this was good. The next few chapters won't be as smutty (after all, I need time to recuperate, as do our boys), so if you don't like fluff, skip 'em.**


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt is awakened earlier than any sane person should by a beam of sunlight shining directly on his face. He makes a grunting noise and moves to curl into a ball, but finds something behind him that prevents him from doing so. Or, rather, someone. Dave has wrapped both arms and one leg around Kurt like an octopus, and before Kurt can disentangle his own limbs, he feels something pressing against his ass. It takes him a second to realize that Dave is a man and it is morning, so it can only really be one thing.

Kurt has two options. He could wake Dave up, have an awkward conversation about his erection, and Dave could take care of it himself, or…

Kurt shifts slowly in the bed until they are facing each other. Dave doesn't stir. At a snail's pace, Kurt lowers himself down the mattress until his head is perfectly aligned with Dave's cock, and he licks the head like a lollipop. Dave moans in his sleep, but doesn't wake. Kurt smiles devilishly and engulfs Dave's cock with his mouth, taking him all the way down his throat. Once he's gotten past the incredibly weird feeling of having his mouth that full, he bobs up and down, humming to himself.

Dave wakes up with a beautiful boy sucking his dick. He literally opens his eyes, half-asleep, and sees Kurt's head in his lap. "Oh Kurt," he moans, thrusting into Kurt's willing mouth. He doesn't last long; a few quick jerks of Kurt's hand, coupled with Kurt's tongue swirling figure eights on the underside of his cock, are his undoing. To his credit, Kurt swallows every drop, and still manages to look classy doing it, a feat that no woman has ever accomplished.

Once Dave has regained his senses, he smiles down at Kurt, who looks awfully proud of himself. "Okay, you are awesome. In fact, I may start a new religion, called Kurtism. Which is basically me, worshipping you."

Kurt giggles and scoot up on the bed so that his head rests on Dave's chest. He breathes deeply, his breaths keeping time with Dave's. "Let's not be too hasty. You forget that you rocked my world last night. And while I may not be able to properly sit down for at least a week, I totally wanna do it again."

Dave arches an eyebrow. "Reeeeally?" He kisses the top of Kurt's head, nuzzling his nose into the impossibly soft hair that somehow always smells like Redken. "I think I can acquiesce to your request."

Kurt snorts. "A Pirates reference? Really?" But he allows Dave to roll him onto his back, and when he wraps his legs around Dave's middle in a way that's already becoming familiar, he decides that not even a cheesy movie quote can ruin this moment.

Later, after they've finished round two (and a quick round three), they finally manage to stagger out of bed. Kurt winces with each step; his hips naturally sway when he walks, and each swivel is like a stabbing knife of pain. But he steels his jaw and doesn't complain. His body still feels slightly boneless, and his steps are unsteady, but he makes it to the bathroom. Dave starts a scalding hot shower for them, and when Kurt reaches for the shampoo, Dave slaps his hands away.

"Is it…would it be weird if…" Dave stammers. He gestures to the bottle, then to Kurt's head.

"Oh. You want to wash my hair?" Kurt asks. "How…serial killer of you." Dave smacks him playfully. "And sweet. Don't forget sweet." He allows Dave to massage the shampoo into his scalp, something that he only lets his stylist do, and that's because she has to. The thought of someone else touching his head has always been this weird problem he has. It just creeps him out. But Dave means well, and it _does _feel nice.

"Is that okay? Am I doing it too hard?" Dave asks, and immediately grins.

Kurt smirks, eyes closed. "Funny, you didn't ask me that last night." Dave presses his lips to Kurt's shoulder sweetly. Kurt sighs. "Not that I would have said yes. I kind of-" He pauses, then figures, what the hell? He's already had this boy inside him, already swallowed his cum. What's a little more honesty? "I liked it rough."

Dave's jaw drops. "You did?" He asks, flabbergasted. "But…didn't it hurt? Like, a lot?"

Kurt leans forward to rinse out the shampoo. "Well, yeah, at first. But then the pain sort of…melted away. And all that was left was the pleasure. Dear Gaga, the pleasure…" His eyes roll back a little at the memory. "Let me just say, you may be the first, but I have a feeling that you'll always be the best I ever have."

Dave's heart swells with pride. He smiles down at Kurt fondly, helping him to rinse out the shampoo. A thought occurs to him, one that has never occurred to him before. Well, that's a half-truth; he's considered it, but he never thought he would trust another person enough to even suggest it. But he trusts Kurt, and that alone is enough.

"You can do it to me, you know." He says it so quietly that the sound of the shower almost drowns it out. But when Kurt freezes and slowly turns his head to stare at Dave incredulously, he knows he heard it. "I mean…only if you want to. Sometime."

Kurt reaches over to shut the water off, because he's having a hard time believing that he just heard correctly. Dave Karofsky, super jock, wants him, Kurt Hummel, to fuck him in the ass. The thought alone gives him mixed feelings. On the one hand, he always figured he'd be bottoming with any partner he had. But on the other hand…

Kurt smiles shyly. "Maybe I will. Sometime." Dave lets out the breath he's been holding, relieved that he hasn't completely freaked Kurt out. "But for now, how about we both settle for some breakfast, maybe a little mindless television, and-" Something occurs to Kurt Hummel just then, something that should have occurred to him the night before. "Shit."

"What?" Dave asks, concerned by the look on Kurt's face.

"I never called home to tell my dad that I was staying at Mercedes' house, which is the lie that I used when I spent the night with Blaine."

Dave goes pale. "You mean-"

"I've officially been missing since yesterday."

**I know, I know…the end is very abrupt and out of nowhere, but my creative juices have hit empty. I will refuel and get back to ya. Next chapter: Burt confronts Kurt and Dave. Dum dum dum.**


	12. Chapter 12

"Kurt Hummel! Where in God's name are you?"

Kurt moves the phone away from his ear to avoid certain deafness as Burt Hummel tears into him. Dave winces; he can hear Kurt's father from halfway across the room. He knows he should feel guilty, but he's too satisfied to feel anything other than that. Kurt has managed to get his underwear and pants back on, because, as he put it, "Talking to my dad naked, even via cell phone, is unacceptable." He's sitting on the corner of Dave's bed, so very far away from Dave, who hasn't managed to do anything other than lay on his back with a ridiculous smile plastered on his face.

"Dad…I need you to promise me that you won't freak out and overreact," Kurt starts slowly. When he hears Burt grunt an affirmative, he continues. "I'm not in jail, and I'm perfectly safe. I'm at a friend's house."

"Which friend?" Burt demands. When Kurt hesitates, Burt lets out an exasperated sigh. "Just tell me who it is, kid."

"Dave Karofsky."

The abrupt silence on the other end is deafening. Kurt doesn't know which is worse, screaming or this. He thinks it's this, though. Finally, Burt clears his throat. "You're telling me that you…spent the night…with Dave Karofsky." He says it like a statement that he doesn't believe. "Why couldn't you have called me last night, then? What was so damn important that it made you forget to tell your father where you'd be all night?"

Kurt hesitates. Should he tell him a lie? A half-truth? He knows that Burt Hummel is so not ready to hear that his baby boy had sex. Gay sex. Hot gay sex. Hot gay sex with a guy who, until very recently, has been the bane of his existence.

He decides on a cross between half-truth and white lie. "Dave and I had a few things we needed to sort out. And now that we have, I would like you to give him another chance. He's already made it up to me." He can't resist. "Actually, he made it up to me three times." Dave chuckles, playfully reaching out to slap Kurt.

Burt closes his eyes and pretends not to be aware of his son's meaning. "Right. So…right. I take it that Dave is now your…boyfriend." Again, not a question. A fact. A fact that still makes him cringe, but hey, Burt Hummel has made remarkable progress. He's gone from cringing at the very thought of Kurt kissing another boy to handing him a stack of pamphlets that, sure, horrified him, but not as much as they could have. And now here he is, working through the fact that his son basically told him that he had…sex.

Kurt looks over at Dave. "Yes, Dad. He's my boyfriend." Dave beams so brightly it's almost blinding. "Now, I _will _be home soon. I just have a…few things to finish up over here."

Burt sighs. "Just…call next time, or you'll give a guy a heart attack. And Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Be safe." There. He said it.

There is an awkward pause before Kurt clears his throat. "One step ahead of you, Dad."

He hangs up, face flushed with embarrassment. So. His dad knows. His dad knows that he had sex. Hmm. What to feel about this. He's torn. On the one hand, he is deeply mortified. He has always (until recently) had an intense aversion to the mere mention of sex. Hell, even thinking the word now, after all that has transpired in the past 24 hours, makes the flush creep down his neck. And he knows that when he does finally go home, his dad will want to have a talk. The thought makes his stomach drop. The last time they had a talk about sex, Kurt had literally put his fingers in his ears to try and stop it. Kurt knows that won't be an option this time.

But, on the other hand, Kurt wouldn't take back anything that happened, and while he is embarrassed to talk about it, that won't stop him from doing it. Again. And again and again. Because, he realizes, Kurt Hummel has a beautiful boyfriend that loves him. A boyfriend that wasn't afraid to touch him in public. A boyfriend that has lost everything except him.

"You're going to give yourself a stroke if you keep thinking that hard." Kurt looks up to gaze at Dave from half-lidded eyes. Dave smiles comfortingly at him. "It's written all over your face, Kurt. You're worried about what's waiting for you when you get home."

Kurt nods. "I can't believe he knows about us. I can't believe that he's being so…calm. I figured that he would threaten the deflowerer of his son with bodily harm. But no. He just said to be safe."

Dave snorts. "Did you seriously just call me your 'deflowerer'? Are we in the 19th century all of a sudden?"

Kurt smacks at him playfully, and this time Dave grabs Kurt's hands and, taking advantage of his new boyfriend's small frame, tugs him back into bed, spooning up behind him. There is no dirty touching. Kurt's hand curls into Dave's and rests on Kurt's stomach. They're both so comfortable, bodies entwined, that they end up falling back asleep.

**Yes, I know. Abrupt. But I ran out of fun words to use. I'm thinking that Dave's dad will catch the two sleeping…thoughts?**


	13. Chapter 13

"David Allen Karofsky!"

Dave is jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest. Beside him, Kurt also jumps, making a cute, if somewhat undignified, snort as he wakes up. Dave prays that the shout he heard was only in his dreams, but when he turns his head slightly to see a pair of legs next to his bed, he takes a moment to wish for a bolt of lightning to strike him dead. Kurt is still a little disoriented; Dave knows the moment he realizes they're not alone, though, because he feels Kurt's body go rigid.

"Dave," Kurt murmurs, just a hint of panic bleeding through, "please tell me that's not your dad."

"What the hell is going on in here, boy?" Paul Karofsky bellows, throwing his hands out in shock and disgust. "I leave you alone for the first time, thinking I can trust you, and this is what you do?"

Dave slowly sits up, never taking his eyes off his dad. Because no, Paul has never hit his son, but today just might be that day, and there's no way in hell Dave will let it happen in front of Kurt. "Dad, I…" He struggles for the words. "I wanted to tell you before," he settles on. "But there was never a good time."

"Never a good time to tell me what, David?" Paul crosses his arms sternly, glaring back and forth from Kurt to Dave. Dave looks pitifully at Kurt, who raises an eyebrow but nods.

"That I'm gay, Dad." There. He said it. And Jesus, did it feel good.

The room is deathly silent. Paul's face turns pink, then scarlet, then almost purple. Kurt is beginning to worry, mostly that he'll have a stroke. "Sir," he says timidly, "maybe we should continue this discussion in the living room."

Paul glares at Kurt, his accusatory eyes taking in Kurt's half-dressed form. "I don't believe I have anything to discuss with you, young man. This is between me and my son. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you leave."

Dave starts to protest, but Kurt holds up a hand to silence him. "No, he's right, David. The two of you have some seriously talking to do. I'll head home." Without even thinking about it, he leans over and gives Dave a chaste kiss on the lips. "Call me later." He gathers up the rest of his clothing with all the dignity he can muster and sashays out of the room, shooting Dave a meaningful glance over his shoulder.

Now they are alone. The room is icy cold. Paul's face has resumed his normal color, but now he's looking everywhere, ANYwhere, except at his son. Dave, for his part, has found a small stain on the carpet near his right foot absolutely riveting.

Paul finally clears his throat. "David. Why didn't you tell me that you're…that you…" He's struggling; it's written all over his face, and Dave's head hangs a little lower. "Christ, why didn't you just tell me, Dave? What did you think would happen?" Paul asks exasperatedly.

"I thought you'd hit me. Or tell me I was disgusting. Or kick me out of the house. Or all three," Dave murmurs, defeated. He rubs a tear out of his eye before it has a chance to fall. "I mean, I've lost all of my friends because of this. Thank God I have Kurt, but I didn't want to lose you too. 'Cause then I'd have…" Nothing. He chokes on the last word and the pain overtakes him.

Paul uncomfortably stands next to his almost-grown son, who has just come out of the closet and is now sobbing softly. He slowly reaches a hand out and lightly touches Dave's shoulder. "David." His voice has a finality to it, and Dave's stomach drops. "There is nothing that you could do that would make me treat you like that. Do you hear me?" Dave lifts up his head to look at his father, his tear-streaked face awe-struck. "Now, I may take a little more time to get used to this than you might like, but I will get used to it. And when I do, we'll really sit down and talk about it."

Dave nods miserably. "What are we gonna do until then?"

Paul thinks. "Well, we're going to act the same as we always do. But there's going to be some new rules. Starting with having your…" he swallows hard, "boyfriend over when I'm not home."

Dave smiles. Not a big smile, mind you. More like a tiny twitch of the corners of his mouth. "You don't want him over here when you're gone," he states, because it isn't a question, really.

"That would be correct," Paul agrees. "At least until I have a chance to really get to know him. And you." He sighs. "I feel like I don't even know who you are, David. And that makes me feel horrible."

Dave stands up. "I'm right here, Dad. What do you want to know?" This time the smile makes it all the way across his face. Paul smiles back and, for the first time since he can't even remember, he gently embraces his son. And that's when Dave knows that he was wrong; maybe being gay isn't the worst thing in the world.


	14. Epilogue

It is two whole days before Dave calls Kurt. Two. Frigging. Days. Kurt is wound so tight he's afraid he'll snap. He can't stop glancing at his phone every two minutes, willing it to ring. Of course, the thought of _Kurt _calling _Dave _is out of the question. After all, what if his father answered? How awkward would _that_ conversation be? So Kurt tries to be patient, he really does. And when the phone rings late in the evening on Sunday, he dives for it like it's a life preserver. "Hello?"

"Kurt." Just hearing Dave's voice say his name, so velvety soft, is enough to loosen the knots in Kurt's shoulders. Of course, Dave's hands could work those knots better. And the knots in his back. And…oh hell, Dave's talking. And Kurt has no idea what he said. So he asks. "I said, I'm really glad to hear your voice. I was going to call earlier, but my dad has been non-stop grilling me about my life."

Kurt manages to compose himself enough to say something intelligent. "Isn't that what you wanted? For your dad to take an interest in your life?"

Dave shrugs. "Yeah, I just didn't know he was gonna try and get to know me all in one weekend." He pauses. "A weekend that I thought I had free of parents, until that damn proposal he was pitching fell through and he had to come home early. A weekend that we could have spent memorizing each other's anatomy."

Kurt shivers. "David. You can't say things like that on the phone." He crosses his legs, but all that does is cause his pants to rub deliciously against his semi-hardness.

Dave smirks. "And why not? I think I should be able to talk dirty to my boyfriend every chance I get."

Boyfriend. Kurt's body tingles at the word. But the feeling is short-lived. "About that…"

Dave's heart sinks. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"No! God, no, Dave! I was just…what do we tell people? Do we tell them we're together? Do we act like we're still just friends?"

Dave considers it for all of three seconds. "We're dating, Kurt. And I don't care who knows it." A thought occurs to him, and he smiles wickedly. "Now…where were we? Oh yes, talking dirty to you."

Kurt's cock twitches with interest But he's more dignified than that, so he tries to hold out. "I am not talking dirty to you, David." There. Good. Nice stern voice. But when Kurt hears the rustling of fabric, followed closely by the unzipping of jeans, he gulps. "Really, Dave. You're touching yourself NOW?"

Dave ignores the snark and loosely wraps his hand around his aching erection, letting out a low moan that goes straight to Kurt's crotch. "God, I wish you were here, Kurt," he whimpers pitifully.

Kurt's hands are shaking as he undoes the buttons on his pants and tugs them down far enough to let his hardness spring free. Abandoning all sense of propriety, he spits into his hand and wraps it around his cock, tugging in short staccato jerks. "What would we be doing if I were there?" He asks, a little timidly.

Dave smiles. Gotcha. "I would be sucking you off. Your hands would be tangled in my hair, holding me down." He tugs a little on his cock, moaning wantonly. "Would you like that, Kurt? Me gagging on your hard cock?"

Kurt blushes furiously, but at this point he is so hard that it's unlikely he gives a rat's ass about anything else. In fact, his father, Carole, and Finn could all come parading into his room right now, and all he would be able to say is "Finn, make yourself useful and hand me my lube out of that drawer."

Dave pauses, because Kurt's not answering. "Kurt? I freaked you out with that, huh?"

Kurt takes a deep breath, because this may be the filthiest thing he's ever said. "I would _love _to watch you gag on my cock."

Dave lets out a groan as he strokes once, twice, then comes all over himself, the bed, even the floor. He hadn't been aware that he was that close, but hearing those dirty, dirty words come out of Kurt Hummel's mouth are his undoing. He tunes back in long enough to hear Kurt's breathy moans go up a pitch, before he lets loose a chorus of "fuck Dave fuck Dave."

Dave waits patiently, triumphantly, but not cockily. Oh sure, he's damn proud of himself, of that there is little doubt. But he told himself that he wouldn't ever push Kurt into anything ever again, and he meant it. So he waits for Kurt's reaction.

"Okay," Kurt says after he's cleaned all evidence of this little debauched interlude off his hands, "we are definitely doing that again, Mister."

Dave fist-pumps. "I knew you'd like it."

Kurt smiles. "Yes, yes I did. Now, about school tomorrow…"


	15. Author's Note

Author's Note:

Yes, my lovelies. This is the end of this particular story. I ran out of good ideas. But fear not. I have other ideas cooking, and I'm just waiting for them to take shape. In the meantime, I thank everyone who reviewed, everyone who favorited, and everyone who read this story. It was a first for me, and I truly enjoyed it.

LibranWiccan


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